A Man's Snack is His Downfall

Chase's annoyance flared. "Since when have I ever said I hated your meals? You're just making things up so you can stay mad."

"Oh? So this means you like everything I've ever made for you?" I shot back as I pulled a lunchbox from my bag. I lifted the lid and slid it across the table. "Here's today's lunch."

Chase slammed his fist down. "What is this? This isn't human food. It's…"

"Chicken feed. Yes," I said calmly.

"I assumed that's what you do with the meals I prepare for you. You feed them to your side chick." I cast a sideways glance at Imogen. "Your Highness, it is my great honor to present your premium, organic chicken feed. No need to thank me. Bon appétit."

Imogen began to cry, her head bowed as she hid behind her boss.

I continued, my tone sharp with mockery, "Is that all you can do, Princess? Cry? You expect to become the wife of a CEO with nothing but tears?

"Men like yours enjoy playing the hero for fragile little girls, but they are not stupid enough to marry a useless crybaby. That alone will never be enough.

"If your only goal is to remain a 'work wife' or a 'weekend friend,' then by all means, keep practicing your tears like a little bitch. Maybe one day your noble, knightly boss will decide to marry a useless, sobbing princess.

"But if your ambitions reach any higher, darling, then make yourself useful. Try to dispose of me. Eat the feed. Let him see just how much of an evil villainess I truly am. Our divorce will come much faster if you find the courage to act.

"You want a seat at the top of the pyramid? Then start getting comfortable with humiliation. Gold diggers have to crawl through plenty of gold-colored filth before they ever reach the top."

Imogen sobbed harder. "I don't understand why you're doing this to me, Ms. Cheese. I know I'm just a secretary, but that doesn't give you the right to insult my moral character. I've never done anything inappropriate with my boss. This is slander."

I scoffed. "Slander? You may be blind because of the man you chose to seduce, but the rest of us still have working eyes. First of all, what kind of secretary dresses like that at work?

"If he takes you to a business meeting dressed like this, people will wonder whether you call him 'Daddy' instead of 'Mr. Grimm.' They will assume he brought you along to compensate for something.

"You think far too highly of yourself just because he lets you eat his lunch, and that is pathetic. A secretary should solve her boss' problems, not create new ones. If you truly cared about your so-called moral character, you would resign right now to prove me wrong. But you won't. Instead, you cry and hope your shining knight will rush in to save you."

"Shut the hell up!" Chase kicked the lunchbox away in fury. "You've completely lost it, Greta. You're standing in my office and insulting my employee right in front of me. Who gave you the authority to treat my people like this?"

The feed splattered across me, but I did not move.

"Two choices, Chase," I said evenly. "Keep your crying princess as your secretary and we proceed with the divorce. Or fire her right now, and I will pretend none of this ever happened."